


Some time, beyond place

by axiolotl



Series: Fictober 2017 [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, One Shot, POV Garrus Vakarian, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:18:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axiolotl/pseuds/axiolotl
Summary: When the galaxy is at war against an impossible enemy, it's good to remember the small things in life.[Day 1 of Fictober 2017. Prompt: "Selfie"]





	Some time, beyond place

"Hey," Shepard said gently, and if he wasn't so used to her near-silent sneaking, he would have jumped as she sidled up next to him.

Garrus turned from his console, where reports on supplies, troops, and casualty reports — always too many casualty reports, too little supplies and troops — scrolled by at sickening speeds. Shepard was a much friendlier view, but as she put down her equally distressing datapad, it was clear that staying up and looking at numbers wasn’t doing her well either.

It took no effort to slide his arm around her waist, but there was no need to pull her closer — they were already side-by-side, their personal spaces having merged a long time ago. It’d never been so easy to be near a person before, and casual touches of comfort had never been so necessary.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, tucking strands of hair behind her ear, noting her furrowed brow. It was an expression of contemplation, though, rather than the usual exhaustion and frustration that came with their report-reading sessions. Her lips lifted in a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes as she leaned into his hand.

“My mom just sent a bunch of pictures of me,” she said, her voice oddly hushed.

His browplates pulled down. This didn't seem like an especially concerning thing, and his confusion only made her smile wider. “From when I was a kid, I mean.”

“By your tone, it sounds bad,” he said, speaking low, as though he was assessing a combat situation. “Were you an ugly kid, Shepard?”

“No!” she let out a short burst of laughter, and it looked like the mirth shocked her from whatever grave line of thinking she was following. Smiling in earnest now, she pulled up her omni-tool. “No, not that. I was just thinking about how…we don't really have any pictures of us together.”

“Oh,” he said. Garrus did have pictures of _her_ , ones he took with his visor that he was pretty sure she didn’t know about (it’s hard to keep secrets from an N7 Infiltrator, especially one that had such a good poker face). While he didn’t have a lot, the ones that _were_ there mattered. One because he didn’t trust his own eyes as she ran straight towards his base on Omega. Another was on the night before they hit the Collector base, another on Menae, and another as she stood, victorious, after shooting down all of his bottles on the Citadel. But there was a distinct lack of pictures of them together; all things considering, their relationship was pretty new, and they were kind of busy trying to hold the galaxy together.

She turned to put her back against his armored chest so that he could get a view of her omni-tool. “The only pictures of us are on the extranet,” she said, now scrolling through different articles with pictures of the Normandy crew receiving commendations.

Garrus rested his chin on the top of her head as he watched, her soft curls tickling his neck. “Why don’t we fix that now, then?”

Shepard hummed in agreement, pulling up the camera on her omni-tool. The screen mirrored her contented smirk, her eyes half-lidded as she relaxed against him.

Everything in that moment — his arms around her waist as he mussed her hair, the gentle hold her free hand had on his — he no longer saw two exhausted soldiers. He saw two people — happy, vulnerable, _in love_.

He saw the evenings where they could read books instead of the names of the dead. He saw nights where they could cling to each other out of happiness instead of comfort and desperation. He saw blue skies and too many days on the beach, the sun freckling her skin beyond recognition, sunburn and hot sand the only pain in their lives.

He saw a future.

The camera shuttered, and their now still faces stared back at them, promising a time without Reapers or Cerberus. A time with only them, together.

He made himself the same silent promise the picture depicted. He would make that future a reality, no matter the cost.

"That's better," she said, admiring the picture. 

"We do look great," he noted, and he felt more than he heard her chuckle. She turned in his arms and brought a hand to his face, bringing him down to press her forehead to his.

They stood there, breathing in this rare, quiet moment alone, held in each other's arms like nothing else mattered. 

Her breath hitched as she hesitated to say something. Then:

“I love you, Garrus,” she said, her voice soft and thoughtful. This wasn't the first time she said it, and it definitely wouldn't be the last. But every time she did, he got a lump in his throat out of disbelief for how he didn't mess this up yet. For how lucky he was. 

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> While I am behind, I wanted to do something for Fictober. I'm excited to do different prompts for my different OTPs, but mostly Shakarian! 
> 
> Title is a fragment from the Robert Creeley poem, "For Love".


End file.
